


More Bones To Sort

by Gh0stFl0ra



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Attempted Seduction, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Handcuffs, Obsession, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Sister Imperator's A+ Parenting, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 13,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gh0stFl0ra/pseuds/Gh0stFl0ra
Summary: A plot to usurp the papacy? Accomplished. Power beyond imagination?   Achieved. The next step? Get the girl. That's going to be a challenge.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Original Female Character(s), past Papa Emeritus IV/Aether Ghoul
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Can You See Me Longing?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, so if you find any glaring issues, or if you want to know more about the OCs, let me know. I do not condone this sort of behavior in real life. If you're in a relationship like this, please seek help if you can. I do not own anything besides the OCs.

Papa IV's P.O.V

Briar. Briar. A plant known for its painful barbs, but full of beauty in its midst. My Briar's thorns were never meant to be so vast, but life, sadly, is never truly just. Her eyes seem to travel away from me whenever we speak, the poor lamb. I suppose she says to herself ,'Don't be too close to him'. But, she knows I would never hurt her. To do so would destroy whatever roses remain in her. Lucifer only knows the totality of what she's seen. 

A knock at the door interrupts my train of thought. "Enter", I call, to see her standing there anxiously. In her hands is a small box, with a few airholes poked in. She steps towards me, and begins to frantically apologize, saying that she found Horatio and Blanche in her room, and didn't want to bother me so late at night. A look at the nearby clock tells me it's merely ten. But, she decided to bring my rats back to me. 

"It's not a problem, _Tesoro_ ", I stand up from behind my desk, and take the box from her, "Naughty little things, a-aren't you?", I hold the two rats in my hand. Blanche looks upset, well, as upset as a rodent could be. Horatio merely seems smug. Briar darts her gaze away from me, and cautiously steps back towards the door. 

"I, I should be going. Have a nice evening", her smile seems nervous, as if she felt unsafe. I sigh to myself, but dismiss her anyway. A strange thought comes into mind. 'She works with me on Tuesdays, doesn't she?, Who's responsible for the itinerary, exactly?' A smile spreads across my lips. I place the two back in their cages, and return to the office. After dialing her number, I wait for the voice on the other end. 

"Yes?", she asks, slightly confused as to why I'm calling. 

"You have a copy of a promotion letter, right?", I ask, twirling the phone cord around my finger. 

"Vincenzo, you do realize it's rather late to ask for that, don't you?", she chides. 

" Imperator, I'm asking for you to get the promotion letter faxed , not to break into the Louvre", the noise is muffled for a few moments, before she's back on the line. 

"Expect to see her in the morning", Imperator hangs up, causing the receiver to hum for a moment or two. 

Briar. You can always cut its thorns, if you feel they'll hinder you. 


	2. Would You Let Me Touch Your Soul?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always make sure your promotions are legitimate, and that your secrets are out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of information on Briar, and just why she's so nervous.  
> (I'll add more details as the story progresses , and yes, she has the 'Emeritus Eye', as cringeworthy as that sounds)

Briar's P.O.V

I shake my head when I'm out of his sight. I can't believe I acted like an awkward kid. I'm 20, not 13, for hell's sake. All I wanted to do was return his rats, not anything else he may have been planning. Another thing pops into my mind. Isn't _Tesoro_ something you call your significant other, not the person you really only work with once a week?

'You're just overreacting', I try to convince myself walking back to my room. After closing the door behind me, I remove my twin peaked veil, and unpin my hair. As I put away the hairpins, something dawns on me, I'm out of contacts.

'Don't look at him, then. Don't let him see. You know what happened to Terzo and his brothers. Who's to say they won't do the same to you?' I grit my teeth, and walk into the small bathroom. The process used to be something I didn't think about. It was as routine as a shower, but now, it made me somewhat uneasy. What if someone were to walk in and see? What if they reported me to the ghouls, or worse? The lens is removed, revealing a blank white iris. I can't cry right now, the other Siblings would hear. 'Cry on your own time, not mine', I remember Mom saying. 

My alarm sounds for 5 AM the next morning. Thursday. That could always lift my mood, considering Alchemy was the first class I had. Now if only Sister Desra didn't look like Dita Von Teese, I'd probably perform better. 

My focus is turned to the floor at breakfast, concerning Lily, one of my few friends here. She touches my shoulder, as if to ask if I'm feeling okay. I lie. 

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night", the half-blind girl nods in understanding. 

"I hear you, I'm lucky to get about four hours", she agrees, her Canadian accent becoming noticeable. I chuckle, 

"Your room is next to the boiler, it makes sense why you don't get much sleep". Lily scoffs, suggesting she should just buy earplugs. 

As the two of us finish breakfast, Brother Paul coughs impatiently. The older man says nothing, but hands me a letter, stamped with Papa's sigil. He leaves before I can ask what it means. Begrudgingly, I break the blue wax seal, and unfold the paper. The words 'Promotion' and 'Immediate' stick out, as if they'd been written in bright red ink, and highlighted. I blink, somewhat astonished. Lily squeals in excitement, asking me to read it. 

"Briar Henderson, for your diligent work and persistence over many months, you are promoted on this date, April 23rd as the assistant to Papa Emeritus IV. ", I read the first line, head still lowered. 

Lily continues to cheer, bouncing on her heels. After two years, I guess it built up to something, even if it's working directly under someone who gives me an- uncomfortable feeling, to put it lightly. 'Shush, you can worry about that later.' I don't notice that a ghoulette's watching until the clock chimes 7 in her direction. She nods to another as if to confirm something. I furrow my brows, could this just be a joke?


	3. It's gone before you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His fantasies should stay fantasies, but he feels those lines are blurring ever so slightly. Especially when she's on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First sexual content warning. If this isn't for you, feel free to skip.

Papa IV's P.O.V

I hope that Brother Paul sent out that letter, or else- no, let's not go down that road, Vincenzo. It's 7:30 AM on a Thursday, you can think about a potential punishment another time. I stare at my ceiling, beginning to think about her again. Would this be common soon? The two of us together like this, her hair in her face, looking at me with pure adoration? What would we talk about, how much she enjoyed last night, how we should stay for a few more minutes? I can almost see a potential pout on her lips. I sigh to myself, gazing over at the clock again, it almost seemed to be mocking me. 

'Get up and stop daydreaming', I imagine it snapping, before I comply with its demands. The rats would need to be fed, the paper read, and robes checked for unraveled embroidery.

"Hello, my darlings", I chirp when I enter their room. Two squeak in joy, as if I'd been gone for years. I unlatch their cage, and open the bag of lettuce from the kitchen. Horatio accepts it gleefully, while Blanche still seems peeved from last night. Octavius quietly nibbles at his piece, as opposed to Sophia, who greedily devours hers. Some of my only real friends. I scratch Octavius' head, and he squeals in delight. I wonder if she'd like them just as much, seeing as she returned them to me instead of panicking and killing them. My mind wanders again, as I can almost see her playing with them, giggling. 'Briar, I wonder if you got the letter', I muse, just as someone knocks at the door. It's just the paper, unfortunately. But as I flip through, her picture becomes visible on page four. She's turned to the left side, awkward smile and all. Maybe I should cut it out, just for memory's sake. Just for memory. 

As I shower, I can almost feel her behind me, her thin arms around my shoulders, whispering in my ear. Her grasp moves to my chest, as she playfully murmurs about how I shouldn't shave it. Despite the warmth of the water, I can feel a cold chill up my spine. They move lower, to my stomach, then-my eyes widen, and I paint the tiles white. Shamefully, I try to put the idea out of my mind, as I finish cleaning myself off, face flushed red. But, I know it can't be put entirely out of mind. Is it even normal to feel this way about her when she's thirty years younger than me? 

I just don't know how to bring it up to her. Siblings her age are just so confusing, whether it be sleeping around with a bishop or two, pretending to care about their feelings, or using each other to backstab when the time is right. It's a veritable snake pit at certain times. Who's to say she'd even go for me, aside for pity sex? 'Don't think like that, you know how many people would kill to be with you', I decide to agree with that statement, whether or not it might be true. I almost see her again, her delicate mouth agape as she applies her mascara, smirking when she sees me watching. I'm honestly happy to have her around, whether or not Briar's just a faint spirit to me most of the time. 

She enters an hour or so later with Imperator, clearly embarrassed. Imperator stares at me, then her, a way of saying, 'Handle this,'. I try to spark the conversation by greeting them, and asking what seems to ail them this morning. Briar limply holds the letter, eyes focusing on the chair in front of her. 

"She's convinced that this is a practical joke from your ghouls, as ridiculous as that seems", the older woman explains, her tone like a teacher explaining her student's bad behavior to a parent. Briar nods, but still refuses to look me in the eye. She must think I'm planning to punish her. 

"I will handle this, Sister", I assure, and dismiss the grey haired woman politely, leaving me alone with the poor lamb. 

" _Tesoro'',_ I whisper, gently lifting her chin with my palm, "Why won't you look at your Papa?", Finally, she looks at me, frightened. I blink, taken aback. That was why? Because she has that old man's eye? I try to hold in my laughter, but it seems too humorous. She doesn't see it the same way, as her legs begin to tremble.


	4. This is the moment of just letting go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is he a liar? Or merely lonely? Can he be trusted, or just feared?

Briar's P.O.V

How the fuck does he think this is funny? Is he planning on killing me too? I should have never looked, if I knew this would happen. My legs are trembling, and I can't keep myself from sobbing. 

"Just make it quick", I whimper, as he grabs the back of my habit. Would it be a slit to the jugular, or a shot to the head? Anything to take me away from this state of unknown misery and embarrassment. Instead, he presses me into his embrace, petting the fabric. Is this just a way to stop me from breaking down even further? I hear him shush me, before looking at me again. 

"I would never do such a thing. I'm so sorry, _cara_ ", he whispers, gently wiping a stray line of tears from my cheek, "I can say, you're... so important to me". Papa continues to hold on to me, Mumbling something under his breath, until my legs stop shaking. "Now, why don't we have a chat?", I agree, and cautiously sit across from his desk. The older man folds his hands, and begins the conversation.

"You have the eye, but the bloodline is, rather tangled," he notices me clutching at my habit, a disappointed expression on his face. "It's unlikely you would have any, connection to the Old One's power. Even if you did, it would be ,so weak", he gesticulates. I nod, slightly puzzled. Genealogy would most likely agree with him, with traits being spread like particles of sand. I mumble to myself. 'I, I can overreact so much, can't I? I guess that's why Mom would shout at me so much.' 

'Don't think about her right now'. Papa continues, after asking if I need a glass of water. I shake my head no, as he resumes his side of the conversation. It was no joke, that he felt I was ready enough. I feel his hand travel down to touch mine, and holds it for a few moments. There must be something else behind that gesture. Anyone else wouldn't have done that, would they? Not that I don't appreciate it, far from that. But, instincts seem to prevail in these situations. 

"Thank you for telling me, " I wipe an errant tear away, as he stands, and exits to another one of his rooms, only to return with an unknown flat box. I decide against opening it for the moment, who knows what could be in it? The clock reads 9 AM, and I give him my best 'customer service' smile. 

"What do you need me to do first?", 

Apparently, a large stack of paperwork, all marked with the phrase 'urgent return'. Rejected promotion requests, applications, potentially dubious letters intercepted halfway through sending. As I flip through the rejected applications, a few names stick out, 'Robert Karlsson', 'Greta Lundin', two of my aunt's neighbors. They never really seemed to be the type to join a Satanic church. If anything, Robert would have found the mere concept stupid, to put it mildly. Maybe it was a drunken dare, or a bet. That sounds like the the most feasible option at this point. As I sort them out, in the corner of my eye, he's furiously writing and scratching off something, before placing his hands to his temples in frustration. 

"I need to get out before I do something I'll regret", he explains, leaving his rooms with a huff. I quickly return to sorting, the thought of what he must have been writing growing more and more present. Just a minute wouldn't hurt, would it? No, it wouldn't. I peer over at the sheet of paper. Crossed out, but still visible are the phrases 'how to confess', 'what women look for in an older man', and 'is this normal?'. 

I feel bad for the object of his affection. 


	5. Author's note

First, I would like to say thank you so much for the kudos and hits on this. I honestly wasn't expecting anything close to this. But, it is well appreciated. Next, I will be using lyrics from different songs for each chapter title, depending on the story arc. Right now, I'm using lyrics from Life Eternal, but later on, I may use lyrics from Deus In Absentia, and From The Pendulum To The Pit, to name a few examples. Thirdly, I have a few ideas for later chapters that I'd like to run by you lovely people. I don't want to spoil too much, but let's just say, a former Papa will be on trial. 'How will that work if he's dead?', you may be asking. Well, I'd advise you to look up the Trial of Pope Formosus. Yes, I may be going there. Even later on, there may be an unexpected face. I will be making another author's note about Briar and Lily at a later date as well.  
Thank you so much for reading this.


	6. Can You Hear Me Say Your Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ministry is his playground, thank you very much. But at the same time, he doesn't know how to start the games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Emeritus IV (or Popia for convenience) being somewhat technologically illiterate. Kind of like a 60 year old not understanding how to close out of a browser tab. No, he doesn't have his own computer either.

Papa IV's P.O.V

It seems the best course of action is to figure it out via 'the Internet' as some of the Siblings have suggested to me before. The hallways seem deathly silent, as they all have left them. The twins are at their usual post, standing next to each other with their hands clasped. No matter how many times I see them, I can't help but feel disturbed. It's as if they're vengeful spirits, as opposed to young members. 

'Take a different route, take a different route !', my brain screams at me, as I pedal backwards. The two look at me blankly, as I do so. Why Nihil thought they would be a good addition, I may never know. But, that's not the point. The library should be two right turns from here. A nearby Sister looks at me, slightly confused by the 'man-trike' as I've heard it been called. At least she doesn't seem too concerned by it. The young woman asks if I'm performing tonight's sacrifice, her tone laced with anticipation. I wince internally, and quickly say yes. As much as I'd like to be amiable , I don't believe now is the best time for a chat about sacrificing a member to Lucifer. However, this discussion seemingly pleases her, because she soon dismisses herself. Have the youths become more bloodthirsty than I remember? Regardless, the library is close by. Brother Luciano nearly chokes on his tea upon seeing me enter. 

"Yes, yes, What can we do for you today, Emeritus", he nervously asks, still startled from my sudden appearance . 

"That should work for now", he finishes pulling up the screen, " Let me know if you need anything else, Emeritus", Luciano quietly leaves me alone to search a potentially risky phrase. 'How can you impress a younger woman', becoming more and more embarrassed as I click the first result. It's from some men's 'health' magazine, written in 1997, listing off potential tips. All of them sound laughable, from the seemingly innocent ' Avoid a cheap cologne', to the ridiculous ' Pretend to listen to her problems, they're usually trivial'. Was this actually popular advice 23 years ago? I roll my eyes. 

'Screw it, I'm going to ask a real person, not a computer. I'm lucky I didn't search for medical advice, then. It probably would have said wine causes your thighs to swell'. Luckily, I should know that the right person to ask is here. Sister Lily is pouring over a copy of the Picatrix, trying to focus on the book and her writing at the same time. Her blind eye is closed , a possible way not to think about it. The brown skin of her forehead seems to wrinkle as I approach the desk she's seated at. Her head pops up, and she blinks for a few moments. After recognizing me, she smiles, and whispers, asking how she can help me. She's as excitable as a puppy with a ball, I've begun to notice. I swallow, and prepare myself to ask the potentially reputation breaking question. 

"Do you promise not to tell any of the other Siblings ?", I lower my voice, tone almost solemn. She nods, causing her veil to shift slightly. I grit my teeth, there is no turning away from this, " I want to impress a woman your age. H-how would I do that?". Lily purses her violet painted lips, focus turned away from me. 

"Kind of an odd question, but, I'll bite. What's her personality like, roughly?", Lily tilts her eye back towards me. 

"She's, rather shy, but she's so determined, even willing to go out of her way for people ". Was this even a good idea? She'd find out incredibly fast, wouldn't she?

"Well, I'd say don't come on too strong, she'd probably think you're going to do something weird. A lot of girls like that, anyways. But, who am I to give this? My own boyfriend turned 22 last week. Just, try to be polite, and try to understand her problems. You're a great person, Papa. If she doesn't see at least that, then it may be her problem". She winks, revealing the milk-white eye again. Quietly, I thank her, and turn to browse the nearby shelves, before she adds, "oh, and Briar's favorite flowers are black dahlias". 

I stiffen up at this , and turn back to her. But, she's already back to her studies. 


	7. If You Had Life Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bastard daughter of presumably a bastard son, with not even a photo to remember him by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some background on Briar's character, as well as her general thoughts on Popia.

Briar's P.O.V  
As I sort through the paperwork, Emeritus' words ring in my brain, 'Rather tangled'. A history marred by a too young Nihil, three questionable heirs, and a new head, who may or may not be Sister Imperator's son. But, how exactly do I fit into this? Was there a family member who engaged in some dirty fun with my mom 20 years ago? A theory I like to cling onto is that they met at a concert, my mother would be drunk off her tits, and he would forget to use protection. But, it's only a pipe dream. What I do know is that she regrets having me, whether it be through petty ramblings, or forcing me to pray to an unjust God every Sunday. As if it was my choice to be her kid. But, that's the past. Now, I have someone new to feel uncomfortable around. I know he means well, but a little voice in the utmost back of my thoughts keeps saying something is going to go horribly wrong. But, how much could he do on his own? Or was he lying when he said he wouldn't hurt me? The paperwork is finally sorted when he reenters in a huff. I tense up for a few moments, and cautiously glance at the older man. 

"I-is everything alright, Papa?", I stammer, only to be told he's stressed. I try to give him a bit of space, to hear out of seemingly nowhere, 

"How am I supposed to give them to her without looking like a madman?", he presses his gloved hands to his temples in frustration. I look up at him slightly, 'as if he would ask you about it'. Another stack of paperwork is handed to me while he sulks behind his desk. Performance reviews, accident reports, ritual attendance sheets, all very standard. Reading through an accident report, I notice, it's dated for six months from now. But when I skim through the rest of its contents, it's blank. 

"I think you gave me-", he's gone again. 'You might as well get used to this, Briar. He's a busy man, he probably doesn't want to deal with you much. ' That's fine, though. At least I have some time to myself.


	8. This Chapel of Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ritual should have started 45 minutes ago, so where is Emeritus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song change, anyone?

Papa IV's P.O.V

I check the time again, the ritual is going to start in 20 minutes. Where am I, exactly? Stuck at a nearby florist, internally screaming. Primo was the gardening type, certainly not me. Aether pushes another bouquet towards me, most likely irritated by my indecisiveness. 

"Get her some daisies, they're everywhere, and most of the time they're free", he tosses the bouquet over his shoulder when I decline, before wandering off again. While I appreciate any esoteric taste, Briar's seems to be rather time consuming. What would a black dahlia even look like? A nearby teenager turns his attention to me, possibly critiquing my hastily applied skullpaint. 

"Um, can I help you?', he chews at his lip. I nod fervently, and ask if they possibly carried those flowers. He rolls his eyes, remarking that it's the third time that he'd been asked. But, they at least had a few bouquets left. I exhale, relieved at the information. Aether seems to scowl at me behind his mask, possibly offended for not taking his offer. 

"So are these for a funeral?", the teenager deadpans, "or your weird kid's birthday?", I shake my head, trying not to yell at him to hurry up, even though something tells me he would need it. Desperately. 

"They-They're for a girl", I answer, pulling out the Ministry's credit card. The teen groans, joking 

"I feel you, goth chicks are way too picky", he plucks the card from my hand, and scans it, before sliding it back with a shit-eating grin. Aether and I turn to leave, as he continues his unintentional spiel about Briar, saying she probably has a 'daddy kink'. My head turns, and I step towards him, furious. Aether places a hand to his forehead, as I whisper to the boy. 

"Satan says hello, by the way", this seems to horrify the employee, whose face pales before we finally leave. 

'I'm done for!', I panic as I reenter the chapel. A ghoulette is sitting on the sacrifice's chest, bored. The rest of the clergy is looking at each other, wondering when the Ritual will begin. Aether slams the doors open, as I run in, panting from stress. The Siblings brighten up somewhat, while I scan the pews for Briar. She's seated next to Luciano, eyes widened by my sudden appearance. I toss the bouquet, which she catches, astonished. I shoo the ghoulette away, before starting the Ritual. 

"I am incredibly sorry for how late my arrival was, but, I believe I've just found another sacrifice whilst away". The Siblings clap, as a hooded bishop hands me the knife. The man on the altar sobs as I plunge the blade into his abdomen. 


	9. Upon The Altar Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly did you tell him, Lily?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clergy tradition headcanons are difficult to develop.

Briar's P.O.V

The Ritual seems to be non existent for a surprising amount of time. All of the Siblings are packed into pews surrounding the altar. Two hooded bishops stare at each other for an extended amount of time, while a tangible silence descends upon us all. Possibly as bored as the rest of us, a nearby ghoulette seats herself on the sacrifice. Brother Luciano seems like he could fall asleep at any moment. Most of the older clergy does, to be honest. Why is Emeritus so late? Was there some previous matter he had to attend to? I don't know. All I know in this moment is that I'll be up to my throat in scathing letters and reviews if he doesn't appear soon. I wish I could just get back to my project, or finish the Kabbalah translation the Archbishop requested. But, that isn't going to happen any time soon. The silence begins to enter our lungs, with no one daring to utter a single syllable, much less a word. Not even a cough exits in this time. Unbreakable silence. At least I have time to think now. The project is the first thing on my mind. Every two months, a competition is held to display a new work of art. For the clergy, this is a perfect chance to receive honor, or higher social views. I avoided entering anything the first few months, out of fear they would be seen as 'poorly composed', or 'too sanitized'. I think I've figured out a good way to at least get a mention. A painting so insulting to the mere concept of 'The Man Upstairs', they would have to say something. Maybe that will never happen, as we all are stuck in this silent, timeless void.

The chapel doors are thrown open by an Aether ghoul, the noise causing many to jolt out of their seats. Myself included. Emeritus runs toward the altar, pausing to throw a bouquet in my direction. But, not a standard rose or carnation bouquet, one with black dahlias. I manage to catch it, as he apologizes for how late he arrived, and that he may have found another sacrifice while he was out. As the Antipope plunges the knife into the sacrifice's abdomen, a cheer erupts from the crowd. At least the palpable fog of nothingness has been expelled for the time being. The sacrifice's wrists and neck are slit, the blood draining into chalices, as Emeritus begins with the opening prayer. 

When the Ritual ends, my first thought is to find Lily. She's the only one who knows about my flower preference. Would she have told Papa about this? 'No, Briar, you're just overreacting again. There would be no reason for the two of them to interact, right?'. He probably chose them out of convenience, or mere assumption. 'Would it hurt to ask her, though?', I continue to think, only to shut myself up again. 'They're just flowers, it's nothing you should care about'. Yeah, nothing I should care about too much. Just a nice, albeit hastily rushed gesture. Maybe I have an old vase somewhere for them. 

"Here we are", I say to myself, finding a ruby colored glass in the back of my closet, in between all of the habits sealed in dry cleaning bags, normal clothes, and unfinished paintings. As I run the tap in the bathroom, the pet names come back to mind. Is this all just a way of teasing me, or does he actually feel affection, platonic or not, towards me? It makes the most sense at the moment to label it as platonic, or simply pity for what happened earlier today. The clock reads 2 pm, a sort of break hour on Thursdays. Perfect for working on the painting. 


	10. Author's Note 2

As much as I enjoy all the hits on this fic, I would love it if any of you left some feedback on how I could improve this story, whether it be character development/portrayal, story progression, descriptions, or even style of writing. It would be much appreciated. I will update as much as I can, and don't worry about how sappy the story is so far, I've got a plan for that. I'm sorry if this note sounds too needy. 


	11. Destroyer Of The Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homesick, or just sick of remembering?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistency with chapter titles, what's that?  
> Trigger warning, if you're uncomfortable with discussion of trauma, feel free to skip.

Briar's P.O.V  
I lay down another line of bluish green for the bruised skin, fanning out the pigment. 'Just like Mr. McKamy's tie.' Why this crosses my mind, I don't know, I should be done with him by now. A reddish brown hue for the opening in its chest. Just like the roof of Saint Michael's. I definitely shouldn't feel anything towards that place. 'Focus on the painting, Briar. Just the painting, you can remember later. ' A concrete table underneath the figure, just like the pavement. I push these thoughts away, as I move to highlight Lucifer's wings, a lovely silver color. His eyes are mismatched, a small comfort personally. But would the Siblings laugh at me for such a choice? The other students always seemed to laugh back then, even when I did ask questions. It's like I still hear it, a twisted choir of angels. The question I asked the teacher was honest, right?  
"If God forgives all, wouldn't he forgive those he cast away?", this apparently was the wrong one. I can almost smell the nun's breath, as she shouted at me. Fish mixed with vodka. The sting across my knuckles causes me to jerk my hand away from the desk. Then, I'm looking back into the eyes of Lucifer. The discussions about him always made me feel something other than fear. 'He's an outcast, just like me.' He challenged his superior, and was thrown away for it. Returning to my work, I notice that the women circling him are beautiful, almost too beautiful. The leftmost is smiling with her teeth. Just like Hannah Meyers. Hannah. I remember the girl pushing me into the stall, latching the door behind her, running her hand through my scalp, before pressing her lips to mine. A beautiful moment, if she hadn't told her friends to come in with her. 'The painting', another muddy layer is applied to the figure on the table, his expression frozen in horror. It's almost perfect. The clock reads 2:55. I put my brush down, and look back at the dahlias in the glass. Maybe it was just out of pity.  
"I never got why we have to clean these", Lily is standing on top of a ladder, feather duster in hand. My hands are desperately clinging to the sides, pleading silently for her not to fall off. She has essentially no depth perception, so why is she cleaning chandeliers of all things? But, I don't think I should question her about her choice, however dangerous it may be. She's done this multiple times. I shouldn't criticize her about that.  
"Probably because the ghouls don't have wings, " I offer, somewhat hoping that's true. The 21 year old snickers, and continues with her dusting. We talk a bit more about everything, her boyfriend's birthday, my promotion, how much the library ethernet sucks, the usual banter for three in the afternoon. The chandelier is clean around 3:20, five minutes longer than the last time we did this.  
"Well, how was your morning?", she asks me as we move the ladder to another light fixture. I shrug, saying I had the normal paperwork to file, and a rather unusual accident report. She looks taken aback by this, remarking with,  
"The kids didn't shove Cardinal Vassago in a ditch again, did they?". Wait, again? Never mind that, I can ask later.  
"It was dated six months from now, " the Canadian doesn't react much,  
"Maybe they're just templates, they make them for everything else."  
"True, true", I agree. Brother Paul passes by us, a relieved smile on his face. I assume he wasn't expecting any good news today, judging by his behavior at breakfast. Let's hope the rest of the afternoon turns out the same way.  
"It was honestly kind of hilarious what happened back there", she adds on, delicately twirling her duster. I agree, and add how strange it seemed to be.  
"It's not like he feels anything like-that towards me ", Lily goes quiet for a minute or two.  
"Lily, are you okay?", I ask, to receive a rushed 'yeah' in response, "Is there something you're not telling me?",  
"Nope!", she answers, even quicker than before.


	12. For Your Praise, Evil One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why do you love her, anyways?",

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, Dolls, and Nons, we have a confession! Cheers should be applied now. Or not.

Papa IV's P.O.V

Aether stands near me as I read the first enraged letter the next morning. Octavius watches from his perch on my shoulder, a headache beginning to bloom in the base of my skull. The rat squeaks upon realizing this. Aether proceeds to look over at the paper, much to my chagrin. The complaints, aside from my lack of punctuality, was that I threw flowers to 'a random sister'. I should be ashamed of myself, letting my desire for her take precedence over what Nihil instructed me to do. I should have expected this, but how else could I do it. As if he could read minds, Aether answers my question for me. 

"You could have just called her in here, and saved yourself that complaint", he offers, "Or just given them with a little note on her doorstep", I don't react, too focused on the letter. 

"Why do you love her, anyways?", he asks, causing me to look up at him. Why do I love her? The first few days after my ascension, there was a brand new flock of admirers, hoping I could either sleep with them, or give them favors for supposed good work. What a sham all of them were. None of those admirers had this desire when I was Cardinal. I remember Briar though, even though she had the chance to ask for favors from me, she never did. Rather, deciding to not get involved with them. Many of the interactions we have had consisted of returning something to me, or checking to see if I was feeling well. Just three months ago, my self doubt became so all- consuming, I could barely stand to leave the privacy of my office, too obsessed over whether or not I would displease my superior from beyond the grave. She was one of four to check in on me, too scared to enter fully, though. While her voice was adorned with a slight stutter, I listened. I suppose she would be a factor in my eventual return to the rest of the Ministry. But, that may be just a fabricated excuse. Even if it was, I'd like to cling on to it, for as long as I can. She's like an antidepressant, as potentially insulting as that may sound. My heart's had a space for her since, only eroding the others slowly. 

"You do realize she has a thing for Sister Desra, right?", Aether pets Octavius' head. Is this meant to be surprising to me? I would be more shocked if she wasn't interested in that woman. 

"Your point?", I raise an eyebrow, to be shot down by the ghoul again. Of course he has to bring up the age problem. It seems everyone does. I assumed women were attracted to that subconsciously at one point. Freudian psychology has yet another hole in it, it seems. 9 AM, Briar should be coming in soon. I can't stop myself from fantasizing about her again. She's blushing like a virgin, the flowers in her black nailed hands. She tells me she loves me, and places a velvet soft kiss on my hand. I tell her the same, and kiss her lips. Briar then proceeds to run her fingers through my hair, tossing the dahlias on my desk. The sound of the door opening breaks me out of the fantasy. She stands with her gaze directly towards me, fully exposing her mismatched eyes. 

"Thanks for the flowers," she says, the same uncomfortable smile as I've come to expect, "Even though you, didn't have to do that", 

"Of course, _cara mia",_ I reply, which causes her to blush, just like in my fantasy.

"Papa, is-is there something you're not telling me?", how does she know?, "I can understand if it was about what I did yesterday, I'm so sorry about that", 

I sigh, she's caught on, hasn't she? 

"Will you promise me you won't think of me any differently?", I try to maintain the 'in control' tone. She nods, gingerly sitting in the nearby chair. 'You've come too far to avoid it, Vincenzo, you have to confess', 

"For the past few months, someone has carved a space in my heart for her. That person, is you", I clench my teeth behind my lips, preparing for her reply. 


	13. Our Congregation sings Infernal Psalms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one respond to a statement like that?

Briar's P.O.V

My brain seems unable to process such a statement. All I can think to do is tilt my head, eyebrow raised. Is he being serious right now? Is that even allowed, given the giant gap in power? The next seemingly logical thing I do is ask 'Are you serious?'. His expression shifts to one of sadness, like a kicked puppy, or that crying cat picture Lily keeps texting me. Then, it clicks, the flowers, the pet names, the physical contact. He is serious. My mouth is agape. This sort of thing just doesn't happen in real life. Romance novels and crappy fanfiction, sure, but not in real life. I feel like I've been beaten over the head with all of these feelings at once. He-loves me? I can't even vocalize what I want to say, before the albino rat on his shoulder jumps into my palms, cooing. A smile forms across my lips, not the practiced one for family dinners or school photos, a real one. All he's done to seemingly impress me, the manic rush to get the dahlias, the comfort for yesterday's meltdown, because he-loves me. The head of the Ministry, Papa Emeritus IV. I struggle to open my mouth, too muted by shock. I blurt out at once, unaware if it could make any conceivable sense. 

"Can I kiss you?", is what exits my mouth apparently. He answers with a quick 'yes', settling himself directly in front of me, lifting my chin again. Our lips meet, his soft as velvet, as if he'd been applying lip balm days in advance. The rat squeaks again, as if it was cheering us on. He looks at me again, the white eye seemingly glowing under the poor lighting. Unsure of what to do next, and with memories of Hannah creeping back to me, I separate us with a wet sounding 'pop', and giggle awkwardly. 

The paperwork, true to belief, is full of angry letters and a scathing review from Cardinal Vassago. I guess being tossed in a ditch can do that to a person. One letter even says, and I quote 'I wish I could throw myself out of the nearest window, then have to wait another minute for His Excellency'. He looks at it for a few moments, before mock sighing.

"I'll make sure to have a mattress ready, then", he snaps, tossing it into a nearby garbage can. I assume this happened once before, if this is his reaction. How late must he have been for rituals in Tuscany? "I assume the bishop in your region got similar letters, ". 

I shake my head no. Augusta wasn't the type for the Church of Ghost, if the protest outside the record store was anything to go off of. But, I was 12 when it happened, and 18 when I left the U.S, so maybe they've warmed up to it. I wonder when the next tour will be. 

"What are you thinking about, _tesoro?",_ Emeritus asks, to which I shake my head. 

"Whether or not Mr. McKamy regrets letting me into that school",


	14. Con Clavi Con Dio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does he think he's doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new point of view. I want to make Imperator more of a major character ,at least until I pull the rug from under you.

Imperator's P.OV

The credit report seems off again, I notice. An additional charge for a bouquet of all things, I assume it may be someone who used the number fraudulently, then remember the stunt Vincenzo pulled yesterday. He used the Ministry's credit card to buy flowers for-what was her name again? I quickly scan through each Sister's photo, until a Briar Henderson shows up. Her? The woman who was convinced her promotion was an elaborate scheme from his ghouls, and refused to even look at her Papa? Am I going crazy, or is he? My mind wanders further, why did she refuse to look either of us in the eye, unless she has something to hide.

Her records show no known father, and a prescription for colored contacts from an Ek Vision Services. I can feel a pit form in my stomach, as the possibility grows. If Vincenzo is attempting anything with her, I don't know how I could respond. Normally, I wouldn't mind a little bit of Schadenfreude, but if my theory proves correct, he could be dooming himself, and all of us. Especially if it turns out she is part of the line. He, on the other hand, isn't. Are there any photos of her without contacts? No, we would be here all day trying to look for those. I have a better plan. Opening the topmost drawer of my desk reveals a fresh syringe, needle still capped. A blood test could give us the answers. At least, I hope it will. I call a nearby ghoul in, and instruct him what to do. He blinks vacantly, but follows, taking the syringe. I dismiss him, and run through the possibilities. She could merely have an anxiety issue, or at worst, the Eye. If he decides to go further in this 'relationship'- I can only feel more and more sick. 

Many problems arise with a potential blood test. The lab in Karlstad takes an incredibly long time to process results, and the one in Kiruna essentially asks for an arm and a leg, just for a test. Then, the charge would show up on our statement. He's the only other person with access to our financial records. I suppose I would have to distract him for the time being. A scream interrupts my thoughts, and a knock at my door brings me back down to reality. The ghoul is carrying the syringe downwards, causing excess blood to spill onto the floor. I bring a hand to my forehead, 

"At least point the tip upwards", he mimes an apology, before I dismiss him. Some of these ghouls, I swear. But, at least he took enough blood for more than one slide. 


	15. I Was Born An Original Sinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A weird ghoul with a syringe, and two strange individuals.

Papa IV's P.O.V

I watch as she finishes filing through the letters, Octavius perched on my shoulder. My hands are placed to my temples, a surge of emotions running through me. My respect as the Antipope must have plummeted, all because I was scrambling to get Briar a present. The Cardinals would chatter to themselves about this for months after, it seemed. The guilt of failing Nihil trickles back in, its as if I can feel his disapproving eyes on me. There's a knock at the door, a nameless ghoul carrying a syringe. His breaths are heavy, and he seemingly can't speak. 

"Are you okay?", Briar questions, reaching a hand toward him. The ghoul gasps, and yanks her arm, clasping her wrist to expose the veins. "What are you doing?!", she shouts, as the needle is forced in. I stand from my position, and attempt to shove the masked assailant away from her. All the while, her blood is being sucked up. Before he can fill the device halfway, she manages to knee him in his genitals, causing the mute ghoul to howl like a dying animal. He drops to the floor, as we scream in unison. 

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!", he nods, and weakly crawls out of my office, syringe dripping excess blood. I slam the door behind him, and immediately attend to her. The young woman is clutching the area, hissing through her teeth. I look over at the area, to see a trail of crimson fluid leaking from the punctured skin. I hand her Octavius to pet while I look for bandages. Why would any ghoul do something so irrational, especially while I was in the room? In the bathroom medicine cabinet is a roll of bandages, and a few safety pins. I return to see her stroking the rat's head with her thumb, trying not to get blood on either her habit or hand. 

"I just hope that the needle was clean. The last thing I need right now is a venereal disease", she mumbles, as I wrap a line of gauze around her wrist. I nod in agreement, definitely something she didn't need. Octavius creeps to the pinned wound, and lays there, before I scoop him up. 

"I see that he likes you", I try to change the subject, hoping to distract her from the incident. Briar lightly chuckles, and admits she'd always wanted one as a child. I feel my face flush slightly, as she looks away. However, she adds, unfortunately, the landlord didn't allow 'non-standard' animals. What sort of place did she live in growing up that didn't appreciate these lovely creatures?

"I'm from Augusta, Maine. AKA, the state where every Stephen King book is set. I-If you were wondering," the dark haired Sister seemingly reads my mind. One of the only things that come to mind about the place are lighthouses. Lighthouses, cold weather, and rocky beaches. A complete shift from my familiar colorful summers, beach trips in 29 degree Celsius weather, and yearly carnival celebrations. But, I suppose she would be more acclimated to Swedish winters than I. 

"Maybe if there's another American tour, you could visit for a day or two", she suggests, the wall of shyness breaking around her. I nod, and make a mental note, before the alarm goes off. 

"What's that for?", she raises a thin eyebrow. I smirk slightly. 

"Do you want to help feed the rats?", 

"Sure", I feel my heart beat a bit faster as we enter the room. Everything seems to be falling into place almost too perfectly. Yet, the ghoul seems to take top priority, what exactly did he need with her blood, and who gave him the syringe? Was it for possible alchemical purposes ? Or something more, devious? 


	16. I Was Born From Original Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An odd way to bond, but a way nonetheless.

Briar's P.O.V  
I try not to scratch at the gauze around my wrist as he opens the door to the rat room. The cages are mounted on the wall, supported by wood shelves. Emeritus tells me to wait a moment, before leaving me with the rats. I look over at them, to have Blanche squeak at me angrily. She remembers me, doesn't she? In the cage with her is Horatio, cleaning his paws in a nearby water dish.

"I'm sorry that you're mad, but you guys could've gotten hurt", I whisper to them, hoping no one hears me. The white rat crawls off, leaving Horatio to investigate me. He blinks at me cautiously, before coming to the bars of the cage. Emeritus reenters, a bowl of cut vegetables in hand. It's either lettuce or cabbage. 

"I'll go first, you don't need another animal to make you bleed today", he remarks, opening the cage closest to me. Blanche creeps onto his gloved hand, as he holds a piece of food out. She nibbles at it, before reentering the cage. He latches it before opening the next one. Octavius is still perched on his shoulder, as he lets a larger brown rat out. 

"Sophia is rather gentle," he speaks, a fondness to his tone. I hold out my hands as she walks into the palms. I shift her over into my left, so there's less of a chance she'll bite the gauze. I take a piece of lettuce from the bowl and hold it out for the rodent. She sniffs at it for a minute, before holding it in her paws, and quickly eating the vegetable. I snicker at this, drawing Emeritus' attention. 

"Where did you get them anyways?", I ask, as Sophia chirps at me for more food. He presses a finger to his chin, trying to remember. After a moment or two, he snaps his fingers, and replies. Blanche and Horatio came from a breeder in Kiruna, while Octavius and Sophia were originally found at an exotic shelter in Mexico, of all places. 

"Well, they're very cute", I say, as I place Sophia in the cage again. The Antipope thanks me, latching up the cage again. Horatio would be fed later, supposedly. 

"He's being a little shit as of late, so this is his punishment", Emeritus opens the door again, allowing me to exit first. I accept, as he exits and closes the door behind him. I see a look of pride in his expression as he returns to the office with me.


	17. If I Had A Dollar Bill...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of what Imperator's doing is pretty illegal. No, I don't condone this either.  
> If anyone's interested, I have a few headcanons about the Church I could elaborate on in another work.

Imperator's P.O.V

The technician on the phone is kind enough to tell me the process of sending in her blood, step by step. First, cap the syringe. Second, place it in an airtight container. Third, place the first container in a shipping envelope, and finally send. But, considering this is the Karlstad lab, I may have to wait four months until results come back.

"And this blood is whose, exactly?", he questions, grabbing what sounds to be a clipboard. "Briar Henderson, a friend", I lie, to hopefully deter him from being suspicious. He scribbles something down, before telling me he needs her signature with the blood. She's signed something here, I assume. I lay a small piece of paper over a copy of her prescription, and trace her handwriting.

The technician hangs up, after wishing me a good day. The scream echoes back to me, and the fact that the ghoul was crawling back into my office. Clearly, there had been a struggle-and I would presumably receive an earful from Vincenzo for hurting his assistant. Lovely. What he doesn't know could kill her. The articles and obituaries I've compiled prove my point. The last known case was in 1942, right on the Ministry's grounds. Ingrid Karlsson, a local woman, was the prime mover of the Antipope at that time. Little did anyone know, he was not of the Emeritus bloodline.

She was, unfortunately. The resulting baby was reportedly horrifically deformed , with two heads, three arms, and a single leg. Ingrid died in childbirth, and the child buried in the Church's cemetery not long after. Of course, now it's regarded as a mere urban legend, with child Members claiming to hear the cries of Ingrid's baby at night.

As much as I don't care for her personality, Briar doesn't deserve something like this. No woman does. Vincenzo can have a tantrum all he likes, but at the end of the day, it's in all of our best interests to just find out. I seal the plastic bag, and place it in a shipping envelope , along with the check and forged signature. Another ghoul is called in as I write the address. He cocks his head curiously towards it, before I stamp the package.

"Make sure neither of them see this",


	18. ...For All The Things I've Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A late night set of ramblings from Popia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not speak Italian, so if there's any mistranslations going forward, I apologize in advance.

Papa IV's P.O.V

I'm woken by the sound of a clattering boiler pipe, two floors down. I look over, to find my bed empty again. Except for a pile of books taken from my personal collection. The clock reads a perfect midnight, in glowing crimson letters. Crimson. What sort of ritual could they need her blood-oh. That's right, resurrection. They don't think I'm doing enough. That I'm not enough, even though I've worked myself to near death for this spot. Who would they even want back? Primo was too sedated, Secondo too intimidating for most-'Terzo'. With his perfect hair, Grammy win, and his way with anyone who said yes. Coaxing from beyond the grave? I wouldn't rule it out. Even in death, he has followers.

But, why her blood? She's never met the man. Unless, he snuck his way into her. The ghouls, and any wayward siblings involved need to be reminded who their Papa is. Not Terzo, me. 'We miss him!', I imagine they would sob, weakly dabbing their faces. Crocodile tears for someone they really didn't care about-they just wanted me gone. Someone would have to snuff out his posthumous influence. I know his glass encased body resides with his brothers' here.

Yes, yes, - what am I even thinking? To interrogate a dead man, let alone a dead Papa is horrific. My reputation would not only go up in flames, but it would send me to a psychiatric ward. Away from my only friends, my Lord, what remains of Nihil, and Briar. Replacing what was left of me with a vulnerable, pretty shell, and a perfect Missionary for an uncaring God. Terzo would have his fun, for now. 'Don't let him get to you', I press, beginning to sweat.

Turning back to the other side of the bed, she's next to me, her real smile visible. I don't question her presence, as she's merely a phantom at this point. When the morning calls, she'll really be with me. I try to run my hand over her shoulder, to instead feel softening paper and aged leather. Sighing, I look at the clipping leaning against the lamp, and press a kiss to it. " _Buonanotte, cara mia",_ I mumble. Her picture says nothing.


	19. Author's Note 3

Some information going forward:

  * Updates are going to be a bit slower this week, I'll be visiting family and probably won't have as much time to write.
  * If you want to suggest 'date' ideas for these weirdos in future chapters, feel free to do so. 
  * Yes, I'm still going to have more information on the OC's, it's taking a while. 
  * I will be posting Ministry headcanons at a later date. 



I'm sorry for making you guys wait, and have to read another author's note. 


	20. There'd Be A Mountain Of Money...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does an impromptu meet up at a record store count as a date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going off of Sweden and Italy's drinking laws for any bar scenes. (Briar can legally drink in both countries, FYI).

Briar's P.O.V

"Does it still hurt?", Lily asks, referring to the needle mark as we search through the rows of CDs. I nod, before picking one up from its space. At least its a Saturday, no obligation to stay inside the Ministry all day, no obligation to wear an oddly heavy veil, and a chance to spend time with Lily. 

"What'd you nab?", she asks, holding out a copy of Alien Sex Fiend's 'Deathtrip' for comparison. I dangle March Violets' 'Made Glorious' in response. She playfully scoffs, before deadpanning, "Why am I not surprised?'', I cock my head, and raise an eyebrow. 

"You've known me for how long?", she laughs, as we continue to shop. I take a look at the rest of the CD's as Lily wanders off. I run a finger along the jewel case spines, stopping at The Cure's 'The Head On The Door', when I spot a familiar man to my left, in the Metal section. Emeritus himself, talking to a goateed man in a patchy jacket and odd hat. The other patron points at me, mumbling something I can't pick up . Emeritus turns and shakes his head, before signing something for the man. The other patron thanks him, before leaving the section. I return my focus, before I feel a gloved hand on my shoulder. 

"Hi, " I turn to face him, trying to balance myself on the shelf. He whispers to me, as soon as the patron is out of earshot. "He's rather ridiculous, ghuleh", I wince, trying to avoid any potential ire from the customer for laughing. "Well, what brings you to Plasmatic Records of all places?", I try to change the subject, while grabbing the CD. 

"Luck, it seems", I guess I'll give him that. I twirl one of my ponytails as Lily comes back from another section, angled in a way that her sighted eye is away from us. "Do you maybe want to-", the older man pauses, as the curly haired woman returns. She signals for me to go to the cashier, after quietly acknowledging Emeritus with a curtsey. "Do you want to, go out somewhere?", he rephrases, much to my surprise. 

"If you're okay being stuck in a salon for, an hour", I explain. Emeritus looks slightly shocked, "It takes an hour for ladies' haircuts now?", With a reaction like that, I can't help but laugh. "No, it's not a haircut. Just bleaching". Lily turns from her spot in line, and speaks in a jokingly solemn tone. 

"Oh no, the blondes have gotten to her". I lightly shove her, before paying for the CDs. 

The salon is almost too quiet when I enter, with the large breasted woman behind the counter more focused on a tabloid than her surroundings. She looks up at me, and nearly falls off her seat. But, when I try to ask if she's okay, she's still on the stool. The event occurs in reality this time, somehow. Did someone slip acid into my coffee this morning? Or am I imagining things? Regardless, she stares at my right eye, tapping near hers in response.

My contacts had better come in soon, or I'd be getting similar reactions from nearly everyone. There's still a lingering fear in the back of my mind that someone could spill it, and I'd be cut to pieces for it. The woman limply accepts my money, before directing me into a chair. 

An hour later, he's fixated on a book that presumably came from thin air, and my ponytails are in stained plastic baggies. The stylist nervously waves goodbye, a look of unsure disgust on her spray tanned face. I don't react, too focused on how I was able to see the event twice. This had happened before, with the accident report. But, how? Do I have some weird brain condition that hits at a certain point? Is it supernatural? I've seen possessions, a scrawny looking ghoul tear a metal door off its hinges, and so many other strange things. So it isn't entirely out of left field for this to be similar. 

" _Cara_ , you've been staring out of the window for the past ten minutes, are you not well?", Emeritus waves a hand in front of my face, as the situation unfolds before me. For some reason, we've ended up in a local restaurant, and I've inexplicably ordered rosehip soup. 

"Yeah, I-I'm fine", I try to convince him, gingerly spooning some into my mouth, "It's probably just the bleach", Somehow, I don't think he believes me. Regardless, Emeritus starts to link his fingers with mine, causing the two of us to blush. "Should we, like, right here?", I suggest jokingly. After a moment or so, we silently agree, and kiss again, my hand moving to his hair, as he places his on the nape of my neck. When the kiss is broken, he asks about bleaching just the ponytails, especially since my bangs are the only hair he can see 90 percent of the time. 

"Just for fun, I guess. Plus, you can't dye black hair purple without bleach," he chokes on his coffee as soon as the sentence leaves my mouth. 

"Are you okay?", I ask, to be met with a fervent nod. I spoon more soup in, while he takes a bite of herring. 


	21. ...Piled Under My Chin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little history lesson, and a call from the Director.

Imperator's P.O.V

There were seven high angels that fell from heaven. Belphegor, Mammon, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Satan, and Lucifer. At the beginning of the ninth century, seven families each made a pact with the fallen angels. Albius, Calavius, Bellicius, Ambrosius, Resius, Helvius, and Emeritus respectively. Their task was the same, to spread Lucifer's message and gather followers. Each family was given a feature in order to attract potential believers. But, in his envy, Leviathan gave the Resius family the same eye as Emeritus'. Both lines have feuded for centuries, and many of us who believe what happened with the baby, believe it to be a warning, to never let them cross again. 

"Sister, the Director is on line one", a water ghoulette pokes her head out from the doorway, pointing to the flashing button on the phone. The director, at 1 PM on a Saturday? That is actually probable, given his sleeping schedule. However, I can't give him too much grief, he is responsible for producing the music and videos. 

"Hello?", I ask, to be met with the sound of a desk chair swiveling. I assume this is his way of making an entrance, as convoluted as it seems. 

"Sister, how are we doing today?", he greets, proceeding to tap his fingers on his desk. For a moment, I consider letting him wait, but decide against it, to get the call finished sooner than later. 

"I'm well, and yourself?", he answers with 'good' , and says that he has a video concept lined up. If it would be as complicated to film as Rats, or as expensive as He Is, then I would have a few qualms. "Well, the band hasn't produced any music yet this year, if that's your end goal". He dismisses this, saying it's another chapter video. 

"I was over at Plasmatic Records, and saw this girl with that, that eye, and thought, make her a religious woman who-", I cut him off, and ask for a description, desperate for it not to be-her with either an Emeritus or Resius eye. 

"Really skinny, about five foot six, creepily pale, black hair and long bangs, wearing this collared dress and boots-", my hands are shaking. That's Briar to an exact 't' or however the saying goes. I don't really care at this moment, I have to keep my composure, as much as I'd like to scream at the Director for even considering such a thing. Please, Lucifer, let the blood test come back soon. 

"Is everything alright, Sister?", he asks. The ghoulette takes the receiver from me, as I plead silently that the girl isn't an Emeritus. We've had our warning, what do we do if Vincenzo gets her pregnant and we find out too late? Would Hell itself crash down onto the world too early, or worse? All because someone couldn't keep it to themselves. "So, we'll talk later?", he concludes, as the ghoulette hangs up. Stop being paranoid, Imperator. Stop being paranoid. You could always advise a ghoul to keep an eye on the two of them. Yes, yes I could. You've gotten yourself worried over something that could be ridiculous. She could always be from Resius' line. I look out of the window overlooking the town, and allow a nervous smile to form on my lips. 


	22. Don't Mess With A Missionary Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll never be her, will I?",  
> "I'll never be one of you?",

Papa IV's P.O.V

She thanks me for lunch, placing her spoon near the empty bowl, before looking out the window again. Sometimes, I wish I could look inside her mind if I was able. Briar's one of the few people (or ghouls) I've met that made me feel this, raw emotion. In fifty years, I have had fleeting lovers, and a persistent Aether, but this experience is alien, to put it in simpler terms. Something more-carnal peers in through my thoughts. The room changes, as well as her. Briar's dress has shifted to a set of lacy black lingerie, her green eye covered loosely by a silk tie. I run my tongue over my lower lip, a trail of blood rushing to my penis, as the blurry, candle-lit vision fades. Only to be replaced by a cloud of purple. Briar stares up nervously, her bleached ponytails slowly turning the same color. Terzo's nailed glove rests on her shoulder, as her white eye glows faintly. His enraged face is uncovered from the fog, his neck extending and thinning until the dead Antipope's head is directly in front of mine, looking at me. 

"You're not one of us", he whispers in audio like an old record. I shake in my seat as he retracts his neck, returning to her. Briar mouths something, her expression turning confused, then horrified. Terzo speaks again, but in Briar's voice.

"Is everything okay?", the horror fades away as I look at the young woman. Her black lips are pressed into a pout and her hands folded anxiously. With a look like that, how could I tell her the gory details? I lie, as the waitress returns with the bill. "Well, since we're 'dating' , I'd like to know if you're doing well. If that's okay with you", her focus shifts to the bill again, before I snatch it out of her view. The line is signed, and the Church credit card placed in between the clip and the actual bill. 

"I can assure you that everything is fine, _Ciccino",_ I smile at her, as the waitress returns again. The blue eyed teenager stares at Briar curiously before she nearly bites down on her pen. Briar redirects her to the bill, just as she has her teeth on the pen. Does she just have good reflexes, or is it something entirely different?

"I'll never be her, will I ?", Aether asks as I return to my office. Turning, I ask why he is concerned about me dating her now. "Because I thought I was going to be some sort of rebound, is that what you want me to say?", the muscular ghoul speaks, his tone colder. Sighing, I think back to the tours, and my blatant flirtation with him in front of those fans. The nights on the bus we spent just fucking with no emotion after. But, didn't he say he wanted to be exclusive? I try not to think too hard about it, just to avoid the memories returning. 

"I wanted to expand my options, you knew this", I leave to attend to my rats' lunch, "She wants me for more than silent sex, I think", Aether grabs my arm, clearly angered. I try to wrench myself from his grasp, but to no avail. 

"Expand your options to what? A girl old enough to be your daughter with a potential heroin addiction? Oh yeah, really expanding your options", he lets go, his tone changing again, to one of being on the brink of tears. "I love you, I just can't show it sometimes", my expression is unchanging. 

"If the time arises, I'll consider us again, but for now, we're just co-workers", Aether chokes on a sob, before telling me "go fuck yourself, Vincenzo. When she moves on to another person, don't come crawling back to me ", he's spitting venom at me. The door slams behind him, causing the room to shake somewhat. I groan, before going to see my rats. 


	23. He's Got God On His Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Painting and sex, what's not to like?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content warning. Nothing too graphic, but a warning nonetheless.

Briar's P.O.V

I place one of my CDs in the player, before uncovering the painting. Almost finished. The heart just needs to be painted. Ironically, it's in the center of the painting. As I wet a brush, I fail to notice I left the door slightly open. The bruisy red-purple covers the organ, before I switch to a smaller brush for veins. Either the open door or the music attracts a set of footsteps. I don't pay attention to them, assuming it's just a wayward ghoul. With a final pale blue line, the painting is complete. Sighing, I place the brush back into the cup. Now it's a matter of getting the thing to the lobby. It's a 30 by 30 inch, incredibly difficult to move through the building's hallways by hand. But, if I could convince a ghoul to let me borrow a cart, the required effort would be cut in two. 

"What do I call it?", I think aloud, placing the canvas near a heat vent. I expect no one to answer, until a familiar voice gives a suggestion. 

" _Deus in Absentia_ seems appropriate, " Emeritus is standing in the doorway, his red suit jacket unbuttoned. I look over at him, slightly taken aback by his sudden appearance. Mulling it over, the idea seems more plausible. It is God dying, so, he would be 'absent'. I thank him, before writing the date on the backside. But wouldn't that also be kind of insulting, given it's also one of the band's songs? 'Just because it's a suggestion doesn't mean it's a final choice'. "German expressionism and-Clive Barker?", the Antipope places a gloved finger to his lip, "interesting". 

"Thank you", I answer, looking over at the clock, unsure as to what I should do next. My attention turns to him again, and-is that a rat in his pocket, or is he happy to see me? 'That sounds stupid, Briar.' The tension is all too palpable, as we awkwardly look at each other. He closes the door, before placing the jacket on my coat rack. Are we going to do this? I suppose we are. I unzip the side of the dress, as he unbuttons his shirt, and tosses it on the coat rack as well. "Hang on, " I interrupt, scrounging through my dresser. "Are you, okay with using- ", I dangle the foil wrapped item next to me, hoping he understands what I mean. 

"Yes", he snatches the condom from my hand, before continuing to undress. I toss my dress on the chair, and untie my boots, before placing them below. My back is turned to him, but when I try to turn around, he sighs, as if he's upset with something. "Try not to be embarrassed, please". Embarrassed by what? Does he have a bad tattoo or something? There's nothing abnormal about him. Granted, his thighs are like most women's, something I'm familiar with. I turn, and-nothing is out of place. His stomach is slightly pudgy, and his chest is hairier than that of anyone I've been with before. I pout, and remove the covers from the bed. 

"We've got an hour or two to kill, I think", I say, as he finishes undressing, and unwraps the condom. Once it's on, he lays near me, as I move on top of him, hoping Lily didn't take those sets of handcuffs. "Are you okay with this?", I whisper, hoping I don't sound too nervous. I receive a 'yes' as I unlock one of the sets, attaching one cuff to the headboard, and the other to his wrist. "Good", I add, trailing my lips along his neck. After attaching the second set, I look down at him.

"What are you going to do?", he gets into 'character' oddly quick, "good luck with it", I gently bite his neck causing him to mewl softly. I move over to his penis, and remove my underwear, before settling on it, running my hands down his abdomen. 

"I love you," I whisper again, hoping the music blocks out the sound of us. I jut my hips, wincing, as Emeritus does the same. Another look at his eyes causes my vision to cloud, as a blurry face forms. Terzo's. The black and white smears lead to the rest of him, and his brothers. They're playing Uno, and Secondo has just won a round. I can't tell where they are, as the image is in black and white as well. But, they're alive. They're alive? I come with a squeak, taken out of the scene. The time reads thirty minutes later, and Emeritus' face is sweaty. "Terzo", I mumble under my breath. 

"W-what was that?", he pants, as I undo the handcuffs. I smile weakly, and sigh. 

"You were great", I half lie, kissing him again. The older man wraps his arms around me as I lay next to him. How was I able to see them? Could it have something to do with what happened earlier? Just, less detailed? I would need to worry about that later, because my 'boyfriend' has a death grip on me at the moment. 


	24. Apostles Backing Him From Behind

Papa IV's P.O.V

My heart beats rapidly as she undoes the cuffs, a slight look of confusion on her face. She lays next to me, as I hold her. The little minx has somehow played into my desires, hidden in the darkest recesses of my mind. 

"I'm sorry if you didn't like it", she yawns, staring at the little TV on her dresser. Briar never struck me as a dominating type, if her 'cute' nature is anything to go off of. But, it was welcome, refreshing almost. Aether could be rough, but there seemed to be little passion, but maybe it was an off day. Sure. Elisa was sociable, but poorly versed in pleasure. 

"Something on your mind?", Briar asks, jerking herself to face me. I brush an errant strand of hair from behind her ear, noticing the plastic bags still clipped to her head "Don't think you can't talk to me, unless it's something really personal", her mismatched eyes trail away from me. 

" _Tesoro,_ don't apologize for it, we both had fun, yes?", I trail a hand down her back, feeling the vertebrae of her spine peep from behind the skin. She seems delicate, but a siren knows how to deceive. The dark haired woman nods quietly, before asking a question of her own. 

"I've been-seeing things. I don't think it's normal, is it?", I raise an eyebrow, concerned. She elaborates, explaining how she saw what the stylist and waitress would do, before they did it. Blinking, I open and close my mouth. She never spoke about this, but I assume she never knew this either. "I just though something was wrong up here", Briar wrenches her hand from my grip, before tapping the side of her head. 

"I don't know how I can answer that", I admit, before kissing her lips. Briar sighs, and asks another question. Have I had the same experience? I quickly lie, saying a hasty 'no, nothing like it'. She would be enraged by my fantasies, wouldn't she? The young woman huffs, possibly disappointed by my lie. 

"I'm sorry about the questions", Briar looks back to the clock, reading 2:45 PM. Why would anyone be sorry for asking questions- she came from a Christian family, didn't she? My own memories flood in, the public shame from the others, all for a question. The other Father posed it before, I just had the misfortune of it being heard. 'If God loved his children, why did he kill so many of them?'. We stay in silence, unsure how to reveal it to each other. 

' _Le domande paura ignorante come l'agnello tempe il lupo '_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase is supposed to mean 'The ignorant fear questions like the lamb fears the wolf'. Let me know if it's wrong.


	25. Author's Note 4

What you guys can expect in some future chapters:

  * The Director makes the next Chapter video.
  * A new album and tour, leading to the Italian gig, and the previous three Papas being found somewhere unexpected. 
  * Putting Papa III's 'body' on trial. 
  * Briar's visions getting more and more strange. 
  * Popia could get more paranoid and ambitious. 
  * Maine karaoke and a meet the parents (?)
  * The results of that blood test. 
  * Someone's going to be killed in Italy. Who? You'll just have to wait and find out.



Thanks for reading this, and for over 200 hits. It really is appreciated. I want to write for some other fandoms, so you may see some non Ghost content in the future. 


	26. My Mother Told Me Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother knows when there are cracks in her child, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Popia's starting to act strange.

Imperator's P.O.V

I look over from my seat at the High Clergy's dinner table, to see Vincenzo's neck bruised in an all too familiar pattern. His skullpaint seems hastily patched over, given the mix of faded and fresh paint. He's been with someone, it seems. 

'As if you're one to talk, especially after what you did for Nihil's affection'. I remember it well, the months leading to that show. The money it took to fly out and leave my only son. Only to learn he had been with - Catholics- for twenty years. That, I cannot forgive myself for. I wish I could have been with him, but it seems life had-different plans. 

The chatter of the Siblings increases in volume, as well as the sound of cutlery hitting plates. The Antipope's attention seems focused on two individuals, an Aether ghoul, who shoots him a dirty glare, and Briar, who's looking away from him. I know she doesn't know about his blood, and neither does he, unfortunately. Possibly a desire for attention? Vincenzo seems to know what drew her to the Ministry much better than I could. He and the Archbishop conduct the interviews, I only approve or reject applications after the fact. 

The Aether ghoul says something to a Fire ghoul, who laughs uproariously. The room falls to a deafening silence, as Vincenzo excuses himself, his expression indecipherable. He instructs the offending ghoul to follow, which he does, albeit nervously. When the door is closed, the silence turns to whispers, whispers like humming bees. Where could he be taking him? Would he actually depose a Fire ghoul? I know he's ready to handle the responsibility of being Papa, but disciplining one of the most dangerous elements? Unlikely. I turn to the Cardinals, sitting slackjawed with wide eyes. The Archbishop stares, even more astounded. 

The service held tonight is similarly quiet, like Thursday's. The Siblings appear tense, the rest of the Clergy, including the children, are nearly to the point of tears. He enters in the same vestments, speaks in the same tone, but grips the pulpit with a strange flourish, as he calls for the sacrifice. The Chapel doors swing open, revealing a teenaged boy, bag headed and restrained by two lower ghouls. I blink, clearly unsure how to react in this moment. The boy is placed on the altar after his outer clothes are cut off by one of the Bishops. I hold back the rising bile in my throat as the teen is restrained again, and the bag removed. He screams, wriggling on the altar. The second Bishop hands Vincenzo the knife, as the teen barks at him. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you freaks?! I make some jokes, and this is how you treat me?! Oh My God, don't do it! I'm innocent! Please, let me go!, I'm an expat!", the blond screams, trying to free himself. Vincenzo hesitates for a moment, before the boy sneers at him again. "I bet you can't do it, you rat bastard", 

The Antipope plunges the blade into the boy's chest, as the Clergy claps begrudgingly. The sacrifice spits up blood, before delivering his final words. 

"God says hello, psycho", he hisses, before his head hits the altar. My hands begin to shake, 'It could be a bad day, Everyone has times that make them think irrationally, correct?", Mentally, I note that I'll need to talk with him. After the Director shows up for planning. I can only hope my son is- stable, at least. 


	27. Update

Hi guys, it's me again. I know I haven't updated recently, and I apologize. I've been working on a different fic, and college registration. I will be updating this story as soon as I can. I'll say this again, thank you all so much for reading, commenting, and giving kudos. It really means a lot to me. 

Edit 7/17: Should I make a Tumblr? I know you guys don't really have another way to talk with me, so I was just considering making one for that. 

Edit 7/19: I made a Tumblr, it's under the same name, if you guys want to check it out. 


	28. My Mother Told Me Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter chapter than usual. I hope you're okay with that.

Briar's P.O.V

After the service, I don't know how to feel. He sacrificed some random guy, who was-essentially a child. My mouth is dry, and my head seems drowned in too many thoughts. Where did they find him? Why that guy specifically? Did they know each other? The Antipope allows the doors open, as the ghouls dispose of the desecrated corpse. I don't look him in the eye. The way he spoke, it seemed-uncharacteristic. What happened to cause, this? It makes me feel sick and concerned for him. But, my fear takes precedence before anything else.

Even when I think I hear him call for me, I rush into the exiting crowd. It's an irrational move, but my adrenaline soaked brain assumes it's the better option. In the hallways, it's all the Siblings can whisper about. 'We've never done this before', 'Didn't he say he was a teenager?', 'Am I going to be forced to sacrifice my sister?', I don't join in, deadset on heading to my room.

I shut the door behind me, as my vision blurs with tears. The room changes again, to an even blurrier vision. I see a walking stick, being grabbed by a gloved hand. A gray haired woman is standing near what looks to be a kitchen counter, her face blurry. She's hit over the head with the stick, sending her to the floor. She's hit again, and again, and again. There's a puddle of blood around her caved in head, as the blood and brain matter is cleaned off of the walking stick. Someone's going to die. I shake my head, and wipe the tears from my face. How could I see that? Would anyone believe it if I told them? 

There's a knock at my door. I look through the peephole, revealing it to be Emeritus himself. My heart sinks in my chest. Quickly, I shut off my lights, and get on the bed, so he'll assume I've gone to sleep. He enters just as I close my eyes. He must be watching, watching as my breaths grow more and more erratic. I feel him brush a strand of hair away from my ear, and kiss my cheek. 

"Are you not well?", 

I keep my eyes closed, unsure what he'll do. I feel the bed sink, as he sits on it. His hand trails down my arm, to my hand. The adrenaline in the corner of my head bubbles up again. Is he going to hurt me? Emeritus wouldn't do that, right? Right? 'Keep quiet, maybe he'll go if he thinks you're actually asleep'. The weight on my bed is lifted. The tap of his shoes on the floor lets me know he's leaving. I keep my eyes closed, until I hear him close the door. My eyes finally open when he's exited the room, footsteps echoing down the hall. 

I grab my phone and quickly search up 'how to make yourself throw up'. There's no way I'll be able to see him tomorrow. Especially after what's just happened. 


End file.
